


seventy-two

by allechant



Series: ars goetia [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allechant/pseuds/allechant
Summary: she knew she didn't have the best taste in men. but getting involved with someone who had seventy-two pacts was a bit much, even for her.
Relationships: Main Character/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: ars goetia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738339
Comments: 41
Kudos: 264





	seventy-two

She had always thought he was interesting.

Maybe it was just because he didn’t seem as _involved_ as everyone else. He was more of an observer, she noticed. He liked to stay out of things and just watch as events unfurled around him, always the calm in the centre of the storm.

You wouldn’t look at him and think he had pacts with seventy-two demons. But what she quickly realised about the Devildom was that here, first impressions often didn’t amount to anything.

“Something on your mind?” The sorcerer was putting his shirt back on, his deft fingers making quick work of his buttons. She blinked, startled out of her thoughts – he glanced at her with a small smile on his face, but as always, his smile didn’t quite reach his yellow-blue eyes. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately.”

“No, not really.” He tilted his head but didn’t press further, and she turned over in bed, watching him as he continued getting dressed. “Did Asmo ever say anything to you? About, you know,” she gestured down at herself, “what we’re doing?”

She was pretty sure Asmo knew. He was the Avatar of Lust, after all. And more than once she caught him staring at her with a knowing grin on his face, though he had yet to outright say anything to her. Which was pretty weird, since this was _Asmo_.

“Why would he?” Solomon answered, running a hand through his silvery hair. “It’s not his business. And anyway, he and I have better things to talk about.”

“Well, it _is_ Asmo. You know what he’s like about this kind of thing. I’m surprised he hasn’t told anyone yet.” She paused. “What do you two talk about then?”

“Just pact stuff. Demon stuff. Our errands.” Solomon was as frustratingly vague as ever. “Hey, could you pass me my pants? Think they’re on your side of the bed.”

She reached to the floor, picking them up and tossing them at the sorcerer. He caught them easily, and she averted her gaze as he slipped them back on, looking as serene as ever. Sometimes, his calmness was infuriating. But that just made it all the more rewarding whenever she brushed her fingers against his cheek and his gorgeous eyes narrowed at her, his soft hair falling forward to cover his face –

“Keep looking at me like that and I might just be tempted to stay in bed with you,” Solomon suddenly leant in and whispered, his lips inches away from her ear. She shivered, his soft voice making her stomach flip. “Isn’t it time for you to leave?”

“Maybe it is,” she agreed, but she didn’t make any attempt to get up. He sighed, sliding back under the covers and twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. She closed her eyes, trying not to recall how she stumbled into his arms, how her fingers had scrabbled at his jacket, at his belt buckle. How he _let_ her do whatever she wanted, throwing his head back with a soft moan when she knelt in front of him. “I don’t feel like moving yet,” she finally said, and he didn’t answer.

She went to him because he was the only other human in the Devildom. She went to him because despite being human, he was _strong,_ and the others respected him. She went to him because she caught him watching her with a thoughtful look in his yellow-blue eyes and she began to wonder what he saw when he looked at her.

The first time she knocked on his door he didn’t seem surprised to see her. He let her into his room, and she made up some excuse about not knowing how to do the homework. She asked for his help on that particular assignment and he didn’t make fun of her the way she expected – instead, he caught her chin between his fingers and asked her for the _real_ reason that she came to Purgatory Hall to see him.

She just leant forward to press her lips to his and he kissed her back without even a moment’s hesitation; she reached for his shirt and he helped her take it off and they had been dancing around each other like this ever since. _What are we?_ It was a question she couldn’t get off her mind but whenever he looked at her the words just died on her tongue. She was scared. A part of her didn’t want things to change.

“Seventy-two demons, right?” she murmured. His hand stilled. “I’ve always wondered. Why so many? What’s the point of having so many pacts?”

“I like collecting things.” It was a simple, straightforward answer, and she couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or not.

“That’s all there is to it?” she asked, incredulous. “It’s a little extreme to give up your soul for the sake of a hobby, isn’t it?”

He laughed. “That’s all there is to it. Must there always be a reason for everything?” Solomon tilted her face up, making her look at him. “If you must find something to question, why not start with this? You come here despite knowing that the demon brothers will get jealous, should they ever find out about us. Why would you do that?”

It wasn’t really that she liked him or anything. But he was human and maybe once in a while, it felt more comfortable being around someone like herself. And it helped that he was easy on the eyes. But she kept her mouth shut and he smiled, his eyes gleaming in a way that sometimes made her feel like he could read her mind.

One day she wanted to see him unravelling the same way he did when he was on top of her, his fingers wrapped tight around her wrists. Maybe that was why she came to him so often. Because Solomon, when he wanted her, was nothing like his usual self. It was a side of him that only she got to see, and she was going to keep this secret all to herself, a fragile key that unlocked the tiniest window into his soul.

She wondered if he even still had a soul. “But when you die, how are they going to split you up? The seventy-two demons, I mean,” she said. “They all get a share of your soul, right?”

“How nice of you, to be worried about my soul,” he answered, and she could hear the faintest ring of sarcasm in his voice. “You don’t need to concern yourself about that. I’d worry about _your_ soul first if I were you.” He combed through her hair and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his fingers against her scalp.

“I don’t think too much about it.” She felt his hand drop from her head to her right shoulder, gently kneading out the knots and the tension – she moaned when he gave her a particularly good squeeze. “I guess I should be more worried.”

“You _guess_ ,” he repeated. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re thinking. You just go through the Devildom without a clue what you’re doing. It’s truly amazing to watch.” And she didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile on his face.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not some powerful sorcerer who knew everything about angels and demons even before I came here,” she huffed, wriggling a bit so that his hand could press on the right spot. “I didn’t even _know_ I was coming down here.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned.” Solomon sighed. “I’m impressed you’re still so happy-go-lucky all the time. Any other human might have just cracked from all the pressure.”

“Do you think you would have if you were in my shoes?” she asked.

“Maybe. Who knows?” His hand stopped, and she made a sound of protest, turning to look at him. The sorcerer was staring directly at her, and she blinked, startled by the _intensity_ in those eyes. “If I asked you for a kiss would you give it to me?”

“What?” She wasn’t sure if she had heard him right. “If you…asked me for a kiss?”

“Yes. Would you kiss me then?” He sounded perfectly serious, and she wondered if this was perhaps some kind of joke, but he looked genuinely curious.

“Uh…sure. Why not?” She was glad her voice held steady, though she had a strong suspicion that she was blushing. He leant a bit closer when she replied, and they were just inches apart now, his gaze never leaving hers all the while.

“Good. Then I want that kiss,” he breathed, and the next thing she knew his soft lips were covering hers, his fingers threading through her hair to hold her in place. Her heart was beating in her chest, and it was so loud it was almost deafening. He rarely ever asked for kisses – the two of them usually just went straight to sex. Solomon’s affection was difficult to earn. Sometimes he’d be softer, gentler, but those times were rare and even then, it hardly extended to kisses.

He withdrew slightly. “You think too loud,” he told her, and she briefly wondered if he _really_ could read her mind – but then he leant back into the kiss and all of a sudden she found herself underneath him and her mind was blank because he could be a _wonderful_ kisser when he wanted to be, and right now it almost felt like he was trying to prove a point. His weight settled on her, comfortable and familiar, and she closed her eyes as she kissed him back, her arms looping around his neck.

Solomon made a sound that reminded her of a growl, and he went from her mouth to her throat; she whimpered when he nipped at her, her skin suddenly incredibly sensitive. “I could eat you up,” he whispered, and she _wanted_ him to – she wanted him to devour her and worship her with his hands and his mouth, and she wound her fingers through his hair, tugging at the silver locks. She heard him inhale.

Then his fingers slipped under the shirt she was wearing, a random oversized shirt she had stolen from his wardrobe, and she shuddered when his fingers found her bare nipples – she didn’t even know where she had thrown her bra to, underneath the bed maybe. She arched into his hand, wrapping one leg around his waist. His touch was setting off that familiar _ache_ between her thighs, one that never really got satisfied, not when she was around him like this.

His other hand pried hers away from his neck, and a second later she felt something pull her arms together, a warm thread wrapping itself around her wrists. Her eyes opened and she looked up at her hands – the glimmer of magic lingered on her skin, and the sorcerer smiled, an all-too-familiar hunger in his eyes. “Do you want me to continue?” he asked, and she nodded, biting her lip.

“All right, precious,” he murmured. His hand cupped her cheek and unconsciously she leant into his palm. “If you want me that much, _beg_ for me.”

* * *

It was getting dark. She ought to leave before Mammon began running around looking for her. But she just sighed and leant her head against Solomon’s chest.

His gaze was fixed on the ceiling. “I think this might be what people call an unhealthy relationship,” he mused. She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“And how so?” His fingers danced over her stomach, drawing patterns on her bare skin. Some of them were simple shapes, but others were more complex symbols.

“Well, you’re very clearly using me to scratch an itch,” he pointed out, and her face reddened. She wanted to protest, but then…was he right in saying that? She didn’t know either. “You don’t need to feel bad about it,” he added when she paused for a moment too long. “It’s not like I asked you to commit to me or anything.”

“Would you want me to, though?” She was curious. Did Solomon want a girlfriend? Did he have one in the human world? She didn’t know much about him. Even now he still refused to share too much with her, preferring to ask her questions about herself. His finger traced another shape. It was a spiral this time.

“I don’t know. I think having a fixed lover ties you down. But there’s something to be said for knowing who you’re coming home to at night,” he answered. She blinked. That was probably the _most_ personal answer she’d ever received from him.

“You sound like you prefer to remain single.” Single, but with multiple lovers. No wonder he and Asmo got along so well. They were cut from the same cloth.

“I would say it’s more out of necessity than preference,” he countered. “At the end of the day, it’s easier to do things on your own. Love brings one nothing but pain and sorrow. It makes you do irrational things.” He traced a heart. “When you have a goal in mind, you wouldn’t want anything to distract you from getting there, would you?” He sounded wistful, and she glanced up, studying his face.

“Had a bad experience?”

“Maybe.” He exhaled, walking his fingers across her skin. “Or maybe not.”

She frowned. “Would you ever stop giving me vague replies to everything I ask? _Don’t_ say maybe,” she added before he could open his mouth, and he chuckled.

“Oh, I see you’re catching on to my tricks,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why you keep asking me questions, though. It’s not like anything good will come out of spending time with me. Don’t you find me suspicious?”

“I like a little danger in my life. I mean, I live with seven demons. And I’ve almost been killed before.” She shrugged. “A bit late to be giving me any warnings now.”

“Fair enough.” Solomon hummed. “But what I _can_ tell you is that if you don’t leave soon, Lucifer will find you, and when he does, he will not be pleased.”

“Can you see the future or something?” she asked, grudgingly getting off him and hunting for her clothes. She hoped they weren’t too crumpled. If Asmo saw her on the way back to her room he’d _definitely_ know where she had been.

And she’d been seeing Asmo a lot lately, ever since she got into this…arrangement with Solomon. Once she bumped into him a while after leaving Solomon’s room, and the Avatar of Lust stared at her for a few seconds before a smile curved his lips and he leant close to her, whispering about how _good_ she smelled.

Just thinking about Asmo made her nervous nowadays. She couldn’t explain why she was so reluctant to let others know about her _thing_ with Solomon – well, the jealousy issues might be one reason, but she knew it was more than that.

She just didn’t want to be seen as easy, that was all. And with Solomon refusing to put any kind of label on what they were…well, she would like to keep things secret for now. “It’s not that you dislike me or anything, right?” she asked, finally finding her bra. It really was under his bed. Solomon blinked at her.

“What makes you think that?” For once his question lacked his usual lilt, and that made it sound like he was genuinely asking. Or maybe he _was_ serious. She couldn’t tell, not with him. “Do you think we’d still be this way if I disliked you?”

“No, but if you _did_ like me, we probably wouldn’t be sneaking around either,” she pointed out, shimmying into her skirt.

Solomon smirked. She thought it was a good look for him. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Maybe,” she parroted back. “Or maybe not.”

“Using my weapons against me.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I’ve taught you too well.”

“You didn’t _teach_ me anything, Solomon.” She buttoned up her shirt. The fabric was wrinkled, and she tried to smooth it down. "Can I get some help here?”

He waved a hand, and her shirt suddenly looked as good as new. “A little thanks would be much appreciated,” he said, and he just looked expectantly at her until she sighed and folded her arms across her chest.

“What do you want?” It had better not be something outrageous again. The last time he called in a favour, she had to convince Beel to give her one of his snacks because he wanted to try some limited-edition sweet and Beel bought out the entire confectionery. The look of betrayal Beel had given her when he finally caved to her request was heart-breaking.

“Nothing much this time.” His eyes gleamed. “Just a goodbye kiss will do.”

Another one? It was odd that he was demanding so much affection today, but it was a nice change and she wouldn’t complain. She walked over and leant down to him, her lips brushing softly against his. He sighed, and she felt his hand reach out to hers, their fingers intertwining. For some reason, she felt giddy.

“You’re in a good mood,” she said when she finally withdrew, though she didn’t let go of his hand. He tilted his head, thinking over her comment.

“I suppose I am,” he agreed. “I think it’s because you said that you’re unhappy about us _sneaking around_ , or so you say. That’s nice to know.”

Her breath caught. He admittedly it so readily that she had to wonder if she had misheard him, somehow. “Is that a confession?”

“Make of it what you will.” He gave her a placid smile, and she huffed, not wanting to play any more of his mind games. Sometimes she wondered what she even saw in him – if the promise of figuring out someone as mysterious as Solomon was worth being _infuriated_ by his riddles and half-answers.

She turned to leave, grabbing her bag, but as her hand reached for his door, he cleared his throat and she glanced back, wondering what else he had to say. He met her gaze and she thought there might be affection in those yellow-blue eyes.

“Seventy-two pacts and seventy-two lifetimes,” he said. Then he paused. “Perhaps you can be part of the seventy-third.”

Did he mean – “Or maybe not?” he added, his lips curved into a teasing smile, and she sighed, shaking her head. Solomon was so _annoying_. He was going to give her high blood pressure, and then she’d get a heart attack and probably die.

Still, when she opened the door and stepped out, carefully looking around to make sure no one would see her leaving Purgatory Hall – she couldn’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> SOLOMON :(
> 
> yell at me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/dontenchantme)


End file.
